Two FBI thrillers: Before Nightfall and Mistake Creek

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Two FBI thrillers: Before Nightfall and Mistake Creek Page 3

by Rachel Amphlett


  Her brain registered movement before she slipped into unconsciousness and the van accelerated away.

  3

  Northumberland, UK

  Finn paced around the small classroom, his voice clear, his body animated as he took the group of executives through the introductory part of the three-day survival course, explaining what the next three days would entail.

  ‘By tomorrow, we’ll be in hostage mode. You’ll see on the agenda for Day Two that we’ve put ‘leisure time’. Don’t believe it. Tomorrow, stay on high alert. At any point during the course of the day, we’ll be coming for you.’ He paused, watched his audience react. Some appeared excited, most were worried. He smiled. ‘It won’t be pleasant, I know, but it’s for your own good – trust me. We want you to put into practice what we’re teaching you.’

  He broke off as the door to the classroom opened. Steve stepped over the threshold, apologised to the executives and pushed another man into the room. ‘Need you, Finn. Apologies everybody. This is Chris, and he’ll be taking you through the remainder of your course.’ He beckoned to Finn. ‘Now.’

  Finn nodded to Steve. ‘Right, everyone, you heard the man. Chris has worked on numerous operations, so you’re in good hands.’

  He swept his notes off the table and followed Steve out the door. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Five minutes ago we received a call from Ian Hart. One of his people has been taken.’

  Finn’s stomach lurched. ‘Where?’

  ‘Istanbul. There’s a car leaving here in half an hour.’ He checked his watch. ‘That gives you fifteen minutes to pack.’

  ‘Steve, I don’t know about this.’ Finn ran his hand through his hair. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve run a rescue mission. Are you sure?’

  ‘You can’t spend the rest of your life hiding in a classroom, Finn.’

  Finn exhaled. ‘What about Chris? I’ve been out of active service for three years – he only left the army last year.’

  ‘There’s no time for this now. You’re coming with me.’

  Finn frowned. ‘Who was taken, Steve?’

  The older man checked over his shoulder before turning back to Finn. ‘Kate Foster.’

  Finn swallowed. ‘Kate?’ His mind raced. Dammit, why hadn’t she listened?

  ‘I’ll fill you in on the rest of the details on the way to the airport, okay?’

  Finn nodded, then slapped the man on the arm and jogged away from him. ‘I’ll be there.’

  ‘Finn?’

  He stopped and turned.

  ‘It’s not going to be like last time, okay? We’ll get her.’

  Finn stiffened, before forcing himself to concentrate. He nodded and ran up to his room.

  His mind worked overtime as he dragged his ‘ready’ pack out from under the bed. He’d had a bad feeling about Kate accompanying Hart overseas, and now all his fears were realised. The diminutive American knew how to do her job, he didn’t doubt that, but she’d either chosen to ignore all the warnings she’d been given about travelling to potentially unsafe places, or Hart hadn’t told her the full extent of dangers she’d face there.

  Finn suspected the latter.

  He packed sparsely, hoping that his time in Turkey would be short – and successful.

  He swallowed. He didn’t know how he’d cope if he failed.

  ***

  Steve threw the last of the equipment cases into the back of the car and slammed the door shut.

  As the vehicle pulled away from the house, Finn turned to him. ‘Okay, what has Hart told you so far?’

  ‘About two hours ago, the car Kate was travelling in was involved in a road accident. It sounds as if it was deliberate, rather than an opportune robbery gone wrong because the driver was dragged from the car and executed.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  Steve nodded. ‘Exactly. Kate was removed from the back seat of the car. Apparently there’s evidence of a struggle, so she put up a fight.’

  ‘Local authorities?’

  ‘Hart reported the car missing after it failed to show up at the airport to meet some guests of his. His security team found the vehicle – they have a trace on all the cars that Hart and his staff use in case they get into trouble and something like this happens.’

  ‘What are the police doing about finding Kate?’

  Steve looked down at his hands, then out the window. ‘They don’t know about Kate.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Hart received a phone call from someone purporting to represent the kidnappers. The caller specifically stated that he mustn’t report her disappearance to the police. In the circumstances, I cut him off – told him we’d be in touch, in case the kidnappers were monitoring his calls. We’ll get more information when we arrive.’

  Finn let his head fall back against the seat and closed his eyes for a moment. The full horror of the last mission flashed through his mind. He shook his head and opened his eyes, then turned to the man next to him. ‘So how do you want to run this?’

  ‘Let’s get there first, see what the lie of the land is and go from there. We should press on Hart the importance of using the local police as soon as possible if we’ve got any hope of finding Kate.’

  The two men fell silent as the car sped through the countryside towards the airport, each lost in his own thoughts.

  Istanbul, Turkey

  Finn sat next to Steve in the air-conditioned reception area of Hart Enterprises, his foot tapping the carpeted floor.

  Opposite, at a glass and marble-hewn desk, the receptionist peered up from her work and frowned at the distraction.

  Although the office space was temporary, rented out for the duration of Ian’s stay in the country, his staff had branded it with corporate logos, glossy brochures and plush furniture, all designed to impress a potential client.

  Finn winked and aimed his most disarming smile at the receptionist. His foot continued to tap on the floor.

  ‘If you don’t stop that now, I’m going to throw you through that plate-glass window,’ Steve murmured.

  ‘If Hart doesn’t show his face in the next sixty seconds, I’m taking him with me,’ said Finn through gritted teeth. ‘What the hell is he playing at?’

  At that moment, the door at the end of the corridor opened, and Ian Hart hurried towards them. ‘Gentlemen, apologies – I was held up in a phone conference.’

  ‘About Kate?’ asked Finn, as both men stood.

  ‘Um, no – I had to honour a prior engagement with a potential buyer in China.’

  Finn glared at him. ‘You’re unbelievable.’

  Steve put a hand on his arm. ‘Okay, that’s enough. Ian, if we could move into your office where we can talk in private?’

  ‘Sure, sure – come this way.’ Ian pushed a hand through his hair, straightened his creased jacket and led the way.

  ‘So what’s the latest?’ asked Steve. ‘Have you heard from Kate’s captors again?’

  Ian shook his head and closed the door to his office. ‘No – nothing more since we last spoke. What do you plan to do?’

  Finn pushed past him, dropped his bag on the floor, and made his way across to the window. He peered out, and then twitched the blinds shut.

  Steve walked over to Hart’s desk and turned, leaned against the polished mahogany and rested his palms on its surface.

  ‘We’ll need a room close to this one so we can set up our gear in a minute,’ he said. ‘We’ll hook up all the incoming lines in the building through our equipment so we can monitor calls. There’ll be some standard procedures we’ll put in place, such as cancelling all your meetings, and I’d highly recommend that you send any non-essential staff home – I presume they all live in secured apartments?’

  Hart nodded, his face pale as he realised the two men in front of him were serious. ‘You want me to shut down my office?’

  Finn glared at him. ‘That’s exactly what we’re advising you do. Kate Foster is your responsibility. You brought her here.’ He
walked across the room, crouched down and pulled out an aerial photograph from his bag. ‘What the hell was the driver doing turning off a main road and taking this route anyway?’

  He stood and thrust the photograph at Hart, whose eyes flickered over the black circle that had been drawn around the stricken vehicle.

  The man’s hands shook as he held the photograph. ‘Kate was, um, carrying out a task at my request.’

  ‘What sort of task?’ said Finn, ignoring the man’s obvious discomfort. ‘Why was she there?’

  Hart dropped the photograph onto the desk and pushed it towards Steve. ‘It’s sensitive.’

  ‘Try me,’ said Finn. ‘I’m a sensitive sort of guy.’

  Hart sighed, and then gestured that the two men should sit down. He slumped into his own seat and folded his hands on the desk. ‘Look, I’m not proud of it, okay? Kate was out buying a gift for my mistress.’

  Finn remained silent, his green eyes flashing with anger.

  ‘I can’t go out and buy things for her myself – my other staff would get suspicious. I can’t afford for those sorts of rumours to affect the business,’ Hart continued, ‘so Kate and the driver were entrusted with that task.’ He stared at his fingernails and managed to look sheepish.

  Steve broke the short shocked silence. ‘How long has this affair been going on?’

  ‘Three weeks.’

  ‘Where did you meet her? Here?’

  ‘Yes. She approached me at a charity fundraiser I attended when we first got here. I sent her flowers the next day,’ Hart mumbled. ‘It got pretty serious soon afterwards.’

  ‘Explain.’

  Hart held his hands up. ‘I admit it – I’ve been obsessed,’ he said. ‘So when she started asking for presents from her favourite boutique across the city, I obliged – happily.’

  Finn folded his arms over his chest. ‘Sounds like she was used to get a feel for Kate’s routine.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ demanded Hart. ‘What makes you think she’s got anything to do with Kate’s kidnapping?’

  ‘It makes sense,’ said Steve. They’d use her to dictate a routine for Kate and the driver. Every time they went to the boutique store to buy a gift, they could be monitored.’

  ‘Did we train the driver?’ asked Finn.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I didn’t think so.’

  ‘Why’s that important?’ asked Hart.

  ‘Because we teach people to vary their route. This driver didn’t, which made the car a very easy target.’ Finn reached into his pocket and drew out a small notebook, then leaned across Hart’s desk and plucked a pen from the collection next to the man’s computer.

  ‘What’s your mistress’s name?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We need to speak to her. Find out what she knows.’

  ‘My wife can’t find out about this.’

  Finn raised his eyes to meet Hart’s and cocked an eyebrow, waiting while he considered throttling the infuriating man.

  Hart capitulated, slumping in his chair. ‘Francine Dubois. She lives near Aksaray.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Finn snapped the notebook shut and threw the pen onto the desk.

  Steve frowned. ‘What did Kate think of that arrangement, being sent to buy gifts for your mistress? When you were in England with us, you said she was going to lead your Business Development department.’

  ‘I don’t pay her to think. I pay her to do as she’s told,’ snapped Hart.

  ‘Then surely she’s too busy lining up deals to be carrying out such menial tasks?’

  Hart cleared his throat. ‘There are some business deals which Kate isn’t involved in – or aware of. It’s for her own safety,’ he added.

  ‘Obviously,’ said Finn, his voice laced with sarcasm. ‘So why do you think she’s been kidnapped? We’ve got a few scenarios to consider which we weren’t made aware of until now, haven’t we? Jealous husband for instance? Is this Francine married?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s that, honestly,’ said Hart. ‘Really – it’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’re in Istanbul, Hart – what do you think?’

  Hart squirmed in his chair and contemplated his fingernails.

  ‘Why don’t you want the police to know Kate’s been taken?’ asked Finn.

  Hart’s jaw dropped. ‘Because the kidnappers told me not to contact them! Anyway, you two can find her, rescue her, or tell me how much to pay for her release. No-one needs to know, right?’

  ‘Unbelievable.’ Finn sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, shaking his head.

  ‘Ian, you know as well as us that the only chance Kate has is for us to work closely with the local authorities. That means getting them involved right now,’ said Steve. ‘As it is, they’re not going to be impressed that you’ve known about this for the past seven hours and haven’t told them.’

  ‘Maybe Kate wasn’t in the car when it was attacked?’ suggested Ian, his eyebrows raised. ‘We haven’t considered that.’

  ‘Has she contacted you?’ asked Finn.

  Hart shook his head.

  ‘Then I think it’s highly unlikely she wasn’t in the car, right?’

  Hart fell silent, defeated.

  ‘Okay,’ said Steve. ‘We’re going to get on with setting up the communications equipment. You don’t answer any phone calls until we tell you we’re ready, is that understood?’

  Ian nodded.

  ‘Good. We’ll check the systems here – telephones, computers, the lot. It may be that the kidnappers are monitoring your communications so we’ll go through those first before attaching our own tracking devices.’ Steve pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket, along with a battery charger, and slid them across the desk to Hart.

  ‘This is a pay-as-you-go phone. You use that to contact Finn or myself. You do not under any circumstances use your own phones to contact us, got it?’

  Ian took the phone. ‘Got it.’

  ‘Good. Finn – come with me. Let’s make a start.’

  The two men rose, leaving Hart at his desk, his head in his hands.

  As Steve closed the door behind them, Finn turned to him. ‘This stinks.’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘Two-pronged approach?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll keep Hart busy to make sure he knows we’re playing by the kidnappers’ rules,’ said Steve. ‘Find out what you can about this mistress of his. I’ll make a call to someone I know at Interpol here – we might need his help. Report back here in an hour.’

  ‘Got it.’

  4

  Finn checked over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the street for signs of being followed.

  He registered no-one, so turned his attention to the small apartment block on the opposite side of the road. No more than four storeys high, the building was cast in shadow by the larger, more exclusive concrete towers being built on each side. The sound of jack-hammers and heavy machinery filled the air, mixed with a liberal amount of swearing from the construction workers.

  He crossed the street and jogged up the short flight of stairs to the front door. To one side, a door entry system listed the tenants’ names. Running his finger down the list, Finn found no-one by the name of Dubois. Francine’s apartment number belonged instead to someone by the name of Altan.

  Finn cursed and leaned against the thick wooden door which separated him from the apartments inside. He checked his watch, then folded his arms and settled in to wait. With any luck, a neighbour would enter or exit the building, and he’d be able to slip inside using a ruse.

  His mind wandered back to the weekend of Kate’s training. Halfway through the last evening at the hotel, he’d realised she’d disappeared. He’d excused himself from the conversation he’d been having with Steve and one of Ian’s executives, and had gone in search of her.

  Eventually, he’d found her on the terrace. She’d been lost in thought, running her necklace between her fingers while staring into the darkness.

  He’d cou
ghed to warn her of his presence, not wanting to frighten her, and she’d turned towards him.

  ‘You haven’t come to spirit me away again, have you, Mr Scott?’

  He’d moved beside her, aware of the faint scent of her perfume on the breeze. ‘Only if it’d stop you from going to Eastern Europe with Hart.’

  She’d smiled, and he’d taken a deep breath. She’d seemed so fragile, yet strong in her conviction about her abilities.

  ‘I’m going, Finn. We’ve already had this discussion.’

  He’d reached out, stroked her arm, feeling goose-bumps under his touch. ‘You’re getting cold.’

  ‘You’re changing the subject,’ she’d said.

  ‘I’ll give you my phone number,’ he replied. ‘From what Ian’s been telling me, it’s another week or so before you’re due to fly. If there’s anything you want to ask me – if anything isn’t clear after this weekend – you call me, okay?’

  She’d bitten her bottom lip. ‘Can I phone you about anything else?’

  He’d leaned down then, and their breathing had gradually slowed as one.

  She’d gazed up at him, as if unsure. ‘Finn?’

  In reply, he’d bent down, cupped her face, and tilted her chin towards him.

  She’d parted her lips, and he’d felt her tongue caress his, before she’d gently nibbled his bottom lip.

  ‘Hey!’

  The voice shook Finn from his reverie.

  An old man stood in front of him, glaring at him. ‘Yes, you! What do you want? Are you selling something?’

  Finn blinked, then realised the man was holding the door open, a plastic bag of groceries in his hand.

  ‘I, no – sorry. No, I’m not selling anything. A friend of mine told me to meet her here, but she’s not answering her doorbell.’

  ‘Heh.’ The old man directed his glare towards the building works next door. ‘It’s impossible to talk out here. All the noise and dust. You look respectable enough. Come in.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Finn shut the front door behind him.

  ‘Don’t you have her phone number?’ said the old man, lowering his shopping to the floor.

 

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